


A Cold and Broken Hallelujah

by Maeve_MacTir



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Kylo Ren - Freeform, Kylo Ren Angst, Kylo Ren Needs a Hug, Kylo Ren is a Mess, No Smut, Pre-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Romantic Friendship, Slow Burn, just an exploration, look this is not a kylo ren redemption
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-13 03:17:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12974694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maeve_MacTir/pseuds/Maeve_MacTir
Summary: Saoirse is desperately trying to save the last shreds of Ben Solo. But how far is too far? And why is Snoke allowing her on Starkiller Base at all?





	A Cold and Broken Hallelujah

**Author's Note:**

> Important: Not a Kylo Ren redemption, more of an exploration of what would happen if Kylo wasn't so alone on Starkiller Base. This was a spur of the moment fic, and I'm not planning on making it very long, will update chapter count (and tags) as I go along.
> 
> Please, do leave your feedback, I love hearing your thoughts!

The door to his quarters was always shut. Even the sanitation staff didn’t have access to it. He came and went sporadically, sometimes spending hours and days and weeks in isolation, other times it seemed like he went without sleep for days. Almost nobody on the base knew what Kylo Ren’s quarters looked like. Half imagined a dark, dimly lit room, stuffed with First Order banners and other propaganda. Others imagined luxurious living quarters, reminiscent of what they’d seen of the old Imperial Palace. Few knew the truth, for not even the most brazen recruit was brave – or stupid – enough to break into the quarters of Kylo Ren. They’d have been disappointed. Saoirse looked around. She hadn’t known if he was in there when she entered, but frankly, she was relieved when he hadn’t answered her calls. The truth about Kylo Ren’s quarters is that they felt horribly lonely. The size and a few luxury upgrades aside – personal library, a double bed, comfortable sofa’s and a meditation area – Kylo’s quarters were standard regulation. There were almost no personal touches. You wouldn’t know you were standing in the chamber of the Jedi Killer. Saoirse took a few tentative steps. She dropped the Dejarik pad and thermos she’d brought on the coffee table. Her eyes scanned the rest of the room. The bed was made with black sheets, haphazardly throw open.

_Does that mean he slept tonight?_

His helmet and lightsabre were gone. Those two items often felt like the only real traces of Kylo in this room. No photographs, no memorabilia except for the helmet. She risked a quick glance at the helmet, but couldn’t keep her eyes on it for more than a few seconds. It was badly deformed and darkness seemed to radiate from it. She’d often told him that he should do away with it, or at least store it somewhere else, but he didn’t want to hear it. It reminded him of who he was, of why he was doing this. So he kept it on open display. She’d often walked in on him staring at it intently, an expression of pain and confusion on his face. She supposed she should be glad he kept ties to his past around, otherwise he’d have done away with her already. A cold shiver ran over her spine and she turned her eyes away from the old relic. Her hand ran lightly over the books that occupied Kylo’s library. It was small, a few shelves. Books were a rarity though and Kylo’s collection had been acquired over the course of many years. Old Sith texts and manuscripts, histories of the Empire and the First Order. These looked barely touched, like Kylo had stocked them on the shelves and had then forgot about them after reading them once. The Sith manuscripts were more numerous, and Saoirse had spotted one lying next to the bed, as if he’d been reading it. She checked her watch. It was late. Perhaps he wasn’t coming to bed tonight. She had no idea where he was. She wandered over to his bed, intent on leafing through the book she’d found there. The bed was a mess. The covers were clean, but it looked as if he’d spent the night tossing and turning. Maybe he had. She sat down, running her hand across the sheets. He slept in the middle, the second pillow lay discarded on the floor. She curled up in ball, closed her eyes and breathed in, the book long forgotten. She couldn’t decide whether or not she wanted him here. She almost said his name, but stopped herself. That name hadn’t been spoken between them in years. It was forbidden to even utter it. She didn’t dare use it. Maybe she should. If she stopped him from forgetting his name, maybe she could stop him from forgetting himself.

* * *

The door hissed open. Saoirse looked up from her game of Dejarik. She didn’t bother scrambling or hiding, that was pointless. She knew Kylo would have sensed her presence from the moment he’d set foot in the hallway. Besides, she’d wanted to be found. She leaned back in the sofa, tucking a strand of ash blonde hair behind her ear. He made his way across the room, the footsteps of his booted legs echoing through the chamber. He didn’t look at her.

He still had his helmet on. “What are you doing here?” The helmet's filter distorted his voice into a voice she didn't recognize as his. A voice she feared.

“Playing Dejarik.”

“You can play Dejarik in your own room.” A cold metallic ring sounded through the room as he placed his lightsabre on his nightstand. Always within arm’s reach, even on Starkiller Base. He didn’t feel safe here. She wondered if he felt safe anywhere.

“Yes, but your room is nicer.”

He turned towards her. She suppressed a shiver of fear. “Look…”. The helmet made it sound like a threat. Maybe it was. Still, she interrupted him.

“You’ve been sneaking around so much lately. I feel like I haven’t seen your face in weeks.” She gestured to his helmet. “Still haven’t, in fact. You don’t get to hide forever, not from me. Take off the mask, let me see the face of my friend.” She paused. “Please.”

He turned away. The helmet clicked as he removed it, revealing his thick black hair. She stood up and walked towards him, waiting for him to face her. As he placed the helmet next to his sabre, she saw his shoulders tense underneath the thick fabric of his robe, as if steeling himself for a confrontation. She waited patiently, letting her arms hang by her side as he took a breath and turned around. He looked tired. His skin was even paler than usual, and his brown eyes were beset by bags. He hadn’t slept in days. His expression was unreadable. Neither of them said anything. She tipped her head back and made eye-contact.

“Hello Kylo.”

She smiled.

The mask finally cracked. Just a little, but it was enough. A ghost of a smile touched his lips, and his eyes seemed brighter.

“Hello Saoirse.”

_Hi Ben._

She reached towards him and pulled him into a tight embrace. “I’ve missed you.” The fabric of his robe was rough against her cheek as she buried her face in his shoulder. He only hesitated for a moment before he wrapped his arms around her.  His cheek rested against her forehead.

He sighed, sounding more tired than ever. “I know.”

* * *

Kylo wrapped his hands around the warm cup of tea. He was staring off to the side, eyes gliding over the ancient helmet. Saoirse was sitting opposite him, crossed-legged on the sofa. “Have you been outside today?” she asked.

Kylo blinked, lifting his brows slightly in surprise. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I haven’t. I miss being outside. I’m still not allowed off-base.” Saoirse said, quite matter-of-factly. She sighed. “I want to feel the snow.”

Kylo sighed. “Supreme Leader Snoke-”

She snorted. “Don’t lie to me, Kylo. Supreme Leader Snoke does not trust me. It’s as simple as that. He wants me inside the base, where Hux and Phasma can babysit me.”

It was true. She’d followed Kylo here, offered up her loyalty, but Snoke had never wanted her around his favourite apprentice. Still, here she was.

His voice was quiet. “If the Supreme Leader didn’t trust you, he wouldn’t allow you on Starkiller Base.”

Saoirse didn’t respond. She didn’t need to. She knew Kylo knew what he’d said wasn’t the entire truth. They both knew why she was still permitted on this base, but neither of them wanted to vocalize it. That horrible, unspoken truth hung between them. Neither of them could say anything to make that truth bearable. So they sat in silence. Kylo scrolled through a status rapport of some kind, while Saoirse finished her game of Dejarik.  The game was over quickly. The AI on the portable pads was predictable and rigid, it had never been a challenge. There used to be a time where she and Kylo would play together, but these days, Kylo didn’t seem to have any interest in Dejarik. She brought a pad every time she came to meet him, but they hadn’t played in months. Her monster beat down the AI’s last remaining piece and the holographic figures flickered out of existence. Saoirse huffed and checked her watch again. She should sleep. She turned to Kylo, whose eyes were once again fixated on the helmet.

“Kylo?”

He seemed to break out of a deep trance as he turned towards her, waiting for her to finish her question.

“When was the last time you slept?” she asked.

“You don’t have to take care of me, Saoirse”, he responded.

“Stop dodging the question. When was the last time you slept more than two hours?”

He sighed. “I don’t know. A while.”

Saoirse got up.  She picked up the Dejarik pad and the now empty thermos. “Sleep tonight.”

Kylo didn’t respond. Her footsteps echoes through the room as Saoirse walked to the door.

She turned around. “Good night, Kylo.” Again, no response.

The door slid closed behind her, and the magnetic locked clicked in place.

Kylo got up and walked to his bed, where two black pillows lay neatly side by side.


End file.
